Poetry Archives

Sally is gone that was so kindly,
  Sally is gone from Ha’nacker Hill
And the Briar grows ever since then so blindly;
  And ever since then the clapper is still…
  And the sweeps have fallen from Ha’nacker Mill.

Ha’nacker Hill is in Desolation:
  Ruin a-top and a field unploughed.
And Spirits that call on a fallen nation,
  Spirits that loved her calling aloud,
  Spirits abroad in a windy cloud.

Spirits that call and no one answers —
  Ha’nacker’s down and England’s done.
Wind and Thistle for pipe and dancers,
  And never a ploughman under the Sun:
  Never a ploughman.  Never a one.